Songs About Happiness Murmured in Dreams: Transmission 507, 2020 January 15
Welcome to day 363 of lockdown, but who's counting? I should probably explain where I am and what I have been doing, but I suspect it would bore you. It's probably the same places you've been and the same things you've been doing, and probably the same, mostly depressive, emotions as well.
Probably, what has been the biggest mental block to posting episodes is the knowledge that my methods have changed so drastically on account of the pandemic, and of course the last time I posted was prior to George Floyd's death (was it? certainly prior to our national awareness of it). Anyway, shit has changed and these episodes from "before" don't resonate with me. They sound like someone else's work--at least when I think about them in the abstract.
Hearing this program, though, and looking at my notes from the time, I am pleasantly surprised that it sounds something like my current conception of myself--and "the show" is "myself."
On this night I received some rare praise from DJ Duce, who suggested "Mke Wangu" from Agwaya by Orchestra Makassy. (I never did get to it, but I swear it is on my Discogs wishlist.) On the other side of the ledger, there are lots of forced segues and fuckups in Deejay Pro (here's hoping that when we go back to live broadcasting I never use that app again). For some reason I played "Body Beat" after "Dead on Arrival" but the Mdou Moctar segue into Throbbing Gristle was somewhat sublime.
Humorously enough, the Pop Group caused me to speculate on the impending end of civilization--specifically whether it will prevent them from issuing a "more definitive" version of Y in the future. It's possible.
Since this program was broadcast, 425 days ago now, I've gone "on the air" 59 times. I have delivered 48 pre-recorded episodes on account of the pandemic. I'm trying to edit a sound file from 375 days ago--fifty shows ago, shamefully enough.
Look, here is the thing about writing: in the most important episode of my life, I could not write my way out of trouble. The best thing I wrote, which you will never see, was not enough to save my life. It just isn't true that only love can break your heart.
But I'm going to do my best to bare all here, by and by. Maybe you'll hear from me again in ten months or so.
BOMBAST playlist, 2020 January 15, 2100-2300:
Talk about dealing in the past
It is Free
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